


Three Of A Kind

by Biscuit Lion (cookiethelion)



Series: Valet Service [3]
Category: British Comedian RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Apes & Monkeys, Chinese Zodiac, Crack, Dog(s), Dragons, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Master/Servant, Mild Language, Sheep & Goats, hints of slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiethelion/pseuds/Biscuit%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milton runs into someone very special ... and then Thom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Samurottsan  
> \----
> 
> 1\. [Valet Service](http://archiveofourown.org/works/326601)  
> 2\. [Do-It-Yourself](http://archiveofourown.org/works/329398/chapters/531504)  
> 3\. [Shadow Puppets](http://archiveofourown.org/works/332687/chapters/537393)  
> 4\. **Three Of A Kind**  
>  5\. [Goats & Dogs (and a Dragon)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/367242/chapters/596962)  
> 6\. [One For The Enemy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/385254/chapters/630833)  
> 7\. [Leave In Summer...](http://archiveofourown.org/works/423707/chapters/708441)  
> 8\. [...Yet You're Here In My Fluffoughts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/456509/chapters/785402)  
> 9\. [World Is Mine](http://archiveofourown.org/works/493852)  
> 10\. [Hurting For A Very Hurtful Pain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/501077/chapters/879676)  
> \----
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
> I own nothing except the plot and Zodiac Valet concept. This fanfiction was written purely for fun, and not for profit. Any persons written is not intended to represent the real person.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

That was the unprompted question Humphrey had asked Milton one day when they were alone in the kitchen, and it was one that Milton had never imagined his master to ask. He struggled to say anything for a while, and as he continued to dry the dishes, he then said, “Why are you asking?”

“I thought you would have had someone, that’s all. You can’t have been single for 47 years.”

“Even if I _did_ have another half, I’m too busy serving you to care about meeting up for a romantic night out.”

“That’s not answering the question.”

“Since when did you become interested in my love life?”

Silence. The only noise they could hear were the builders in Warren’s flat, busy repairing the hole. Both men had lost count as to when it had been made, but Milton reckoned it had been around a week ago, even if it didn’t feel that long, but that was probably because he had recently seen waistcoat-ditching-jumper-wearing Matthew too many times. It was normal for leaders and members to rarely see each other, not in the least because they had masters and contracts to attend to.

“I just … wanted to know.”

Milton narrowed his eyes. “You’re not suggesting I would bring someone over, are you?”

“Look, it doesn’t seem fair that you’re being forced to hide in your room because of Matthew, and it’s difficult for me to stop ordering you around when he comes over.”

“So what you’re saying is, you would prefer it if I left –?”

“Yes.”

“What state is the flat going to be in when I come back?”

It took a moment for Humphrey to realise what Milton meant, and his face turned red. “Nothing’s going to happen to it. Anyway, stop making it sound like Matthew’s my boyfriend –”

“If he isn’t, why are you so eager to get me out of the way?” said Milton as he opened the nearest cabinet to his right. He knew that would shut up Humphrey for a while, and he took advantage of the silence to stack the plates away, so that he wouldn’t miss the answer – if Humphrey could think of one.

Humphrey continued to remain silent and watched Milton tidy away most of the washing up; he had reached the last two mugs when the doorbell rang, and Humphrey hastened to fetch it. He halted, however, inches from the handle, and was about to speak when Milton slipped off the Marigolds and threw it onto the counter.

“It’s Matthew, isn’t it?” he asked as he crossed the living room. His cheeks were flushing, and his steps were thumping.

“…Sorry,” said Humphrey, but he could do no more as Milton opened the windows and threw himself out of it. He waited until he saw his Valet fly up and out of sight, then he shut the window and answered the door.

***

Milton didn’t really know where he was going – all he wanted to do was pass his free time somehow, and he figured he wouldn’t be able to go back for at least half the day. He was tempted to find some excuse to call several of his members, but his Item was stuck with Humphrey, and the only way he could get it was to go in through the front door, and somehow sneak into his room without raising Matthew’s suspicions. Why did Humphrey _have_ to fall for Matthew? Even worse, why did it have to be the same vice versa? Even though affairs between a Zodiac Valet and a human was allowed (if anything, it was more than welcomed if the Valets were to survive), Milton wished it wasn’t with one of his members, not when he would be forced to see them regularly and keep hiding his status.

He didn’t realise he was heading towards the forest, and nor was he aware of another presence tailing him, not until he was being tackled. He yelped from the initial contact, and he plummeted so fast, he didn’t even realise that he had fell out of the sky, let alone landed in mud and surrounded by trees. If anything, he was a little dazed, until he heard the familiar giggle.

“Sorry,” said a voice he had been yearning to hear for a while. He sat up and lurched at Jack, pushing him backwards into the mud as well, though he still found some space to scoop his arms under the younger man’s neck, drawing him into one of his rare, voluntary hugs. Jack hugged him too, slapping his muddy arms onto Milton’s already-muddy back.

They broke apart and, holding onto each other’s hand, walked a small distance from the mud, and found a drier clearing. Milton was the first to let go, and as he took his coat off, he inspected the rest of his clothes. His pants and shirt were dry, but bits of mud were stuck to his hair, though that was easily fixed when he ruffled it. As for Jack, his waistcoat and t-shirt were ruined, and he flung them aside, though he kept his jeans on.

“When did I last see you?” said Jack as they sat down with their backs against the thickest tree they could see. The shade from the branches was enough to act as a comically oversized parasol, and the ridges from the crowded roots formed a cramped, raised seat that didn’t cover their bottoms thoroughly. Nonetheless, it was better than remaining in the mud, and they had hardly sat down when Milton placed a hand over Jack’s, and slipped his fingers into his palm.

“I’d say a month,” said Milton. He tightened his grip, causing Jack to turn his head to him.

“What’s the matter?”

Milton recalled what had happened that morning, though being careful to avoid naming his master directly. “I’m not … against them, but I find it harder to face Matthew, because … it … I’m his _leader_ , for goodness sake, it … and …”

He didn’t have to finish; he could tell Jack knew what he meant. As if to show it, Jack slipped his other arm around Milton’s waist, and leaned his head on his shoulder. That was what Milton missed the most at times – he never needed to articulate his feelings very far with Jack, he could use a few words to mean a lot. He put his other arm around Jack’s shoulders, and drew him closer until the side of their hips were lightly touching.

“So … how have you been since I last saw you?” said Milton.

“It’s been alright … a bit quiet, really, just tidying up the household, that kind of stuff. Lee hasn’t called, and I’m presuming it’s going to stay this quiet for a while.”

Milton loosened his grip, as if to let go of Jack. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your –”

“Nah, she’s at work, and I’ve done everything I need to do.” His answer reassured Milton, and he tightened his hold again. “How are things with Thom? Is he still being a bit of a dickhead?”

“Yes, but if Matthew’s behaviour keeps up…”

A sneeze from about two trees down alarmed them, and they staggered to their feet at the same time, still holding hands. Milton rolled his eyes as he saw Thom appear, and although he tried to pull Jack closer to him, he wasn’t fast enough to stop him from hugging and kissing his cheeks.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, sweetheart,” he said. He gave a glance at Jack, his eyes narrow, and vice versa.

“Milton.”

“What the fuck were you doing over there? You were like a bloody stalker,” said Jack.

“Well, if I had to stalk someone, I wouldn’t have minded doing it for my sweetheart.”

“Milton.” He half-swung his arm backwards, retaining his hold on Jack and stopping him from advancing towards Thom. Jack glared at him, but he shook his head, his eyes still on Thom.

“Anyway, sweetheart,” said Thom, ignoring Jack’s attempted ambush. “As lovely as it was, I need to go, I’ve got members to meet so – oh, never mind, looks like they’ve found me first.”

They looked up, and saw the outline of a dragon-winged human glide in – and catch his wings on the branches, forcing him to crash-land. From his back, a monkey leapt off and dived for the ground, landing just as clumsily as Tim. He remained longer on the ground than Tim, who, despite obtaining scratches and several bruises and cuts, shook his wings and dashed to his companion, grabbing and tossing back handfuls of windswept hair, ignoring the dangling top button from his waistcoat, or that his shirt and jeans were growing patches of mauled grass. The headband which held up his down-curved black and crimson horns had slipped down the back of his head, and was dangling from his ears in a tusk-like manner.

“Mark – Mark –” The monkey had, by then, changed back to Mark, who was sat up and readjusting his glasses. His shirt, jeans, and both sides of his waistcoat were stained; several strands of hair had collapsed onto his face and, despite a partly-concussed look, seemed to be alright.

“I’m alright, I’m fine,” he said. Nonetheless, he took Tim’s hand, and got to his feet. He continued to hold his hand, even when Thom, seeing as they were fine, tried to give them his usual way of greeting. He had hardly taken a few steps when Tim raised his right wing, bringing it in front of him and Mark like a shield. Underneath, his free hand had turned into a claw again, and it gave off a silver glow.

“Alright, I won’t bite,” said Thom, now backing away by three small steps. “If you’re sure you’re alright…” Tim lowered his wings first, and folded them before he dropped his arm; Thom took it as a cue to continue. “Well, my master wants me to revamp his garden.”

Pause. Then Tim said, “…That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

Tim’s cheeks were reddening, and his wings flapping. “You called us … to do some gardening? Oh, sorry Mark.” Mark was trying not to wince too blatantly as his hand turned white from Tim’s grip; he gasped as his hand was freed, albeit still holding Tim’s.

“Not just _any_ gardening; if it _was_ normal, I wouldn’t be calling you. He’s in some sort of competition with a colleague – I know, I would tell you more if I could, but he refused to say why, although I _think_ it started when he and his friend were drunk – and you know what our contracts say. He _commanded_ me to do the gardening – he used those words – so I have to do it.”

Tim sighed, and looked at Mark; he let go of Tim, and tapped the rim of his glasses. He changed into his monkey form again, and leapt at Tim; he grabbed his wrist with both hands, then climbed up his arm and settled on his shoulder. Thom jumped on Milton and kissed him goodbye; then, ignoring Jack, he started to run out of the forest, giving the sky frequent glances as Tim and Mark flew above him.

Milton and Jack remained standing on the spot for a while longer, just watching Thom disappear once more. It was only when a breeze ruffled through the place, and Jack started shivering and sneezing, that Milton grabbed his coat, shook it, and then threw it over his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

“Shit – don’t –”

Humphrey skidded to a halt in between Matthew and his bedroom, drops of lukewarm water dripping off his fingertips. Inside his room, he could hear his phone ringing, but he ignored it for now. Humphrey had heard it ringing and, as he had been occupied in the kitchen, had asked Matthew to take it for him, until he remembered Milton’s Item; he didn’t fancy answering questions about it, but as he stood in front of Matthew, he realised that he now had to lie about his actions…

“I thought you wanted me to –”

“I … _did_ , but … I … forgot that … my … room was … erm … my … it …”

He was expecting Matthew to interfere, but it seemed the other man was actually enjoying his attempts to think of something. What worried Humphrey more, however, was that Matthew was looking at him like he _knew_ about Milton’s Item, but how could he know? He had never let Matthew into his room before, but at the same time, he was certain he wasn’t seeing things, that that look was genuine…

“Come on, what’s the matter with your room?”

“It … doesn’t … hasn’t been tidied up … in … weeks …” He peered over his shoulder, and realised the door was ajar wide enough for them to see that it was far from the pig sty Humphrey was making it sound.

His phone stopped ringing, and silence followed. Matthew had his eyebrows raised, but he was also struggling not to laugh. Humphrey wished he _could_ laugh it off, but it was too awkward for him to raise so much as a titter. He wanted to slip into his room and hide his blushes, but doing that would only expose his lie _and_ Milton’s Item; he could walk off, but that would mean side stepping out of the way, and Matthew would pick up on the fact he now had a missed call, which would lead back to Humphrey having to open his door – 

The only way he could get out of it was to go forward, and, thinking this couldn’t get any worse, swooped down and kissed Matthew. He locked both arms around his neck, stopping him from escaping. One hand forked through his hair, leaving wet streaks behind, while the other rested on his shoulder, dampening his jumper. It took a while for Matthew to realise what was even happening, and when he tried to wrap his arms around Humphrey, he just about managed to hold onto his neck, although he had to grab his own wrist to avoid falling off.

For now, he was going to stop trying to get past Humphrey, and enjoy the kiss. Then he was going to find Milton as soon as he could.

***

Neither Jack nor Milton knew how much longer they had been with each other, but the next time they had looked up (now fully clothed again since scraping off any dried mud), the sky was starting to turn pinkish-orange. The time had alarmed Jack, and seeing as he had to be returning to his household, Milton had little choice but to go back to his as well. He didn’t know if Matthew was still there or not, but he hoped for the best.

Milton had hardly got up when Tim and Mark appeared; their hands were a raw pink, their foreheads shiny from sweating, and their shirts and waistcoats appeared to have been worn in a hurry.

“Hello … again,” said Mark. He sounded out of breath.

“How did it go?” said Milton, unaware that he was cupping Jack’s hand again.

“It was tiring, but I think it went well. I just had to bloom the flowers, really, and, er, make sure the grass was at the right height.” Mark paused, waited for Tim to say something, but when he kept quiet, he continued. “Thom forced Tim to do the metalwork, and he’s not happy about it.”

“He made me make _gnomes_ in this … _stupid_ , pathetic, pointless request of his,” said Tim. Milton felt like backing away; if he kept this up, he could be breathing fire for all he knew.

“It wasn’t _that_ bad. Thom did like your designs –”

“It’s an _insult_ , Mark. If he wanted gnomes, he should have asked Miles, not me.”

“Yeah, but … he needed me, and you never let me go on my own; admittedly, it’s the same the other way round, but the point still stands.”

“Mark, I –”

“Where’s Tuck now?” said Milton, not wanting to witness an argument break out in front of him.

“We left him to destroy any weeds he found. I offered to help him, but he said he would be fine on his own,” said Mark. He had barely finished when Tim’s wings brandished into his chest, forcing him back and out of the way as a goat rushed past, goading Milton into the forest; his hand slipped out of Jack’s, and he was sent tumbling to the ground. When he got up, he was just about out of earshot from Jack, Tim and Mark.

“Sorry Milton,” said Matthew, now in human form. He readjusted his glasses, tugged his waistcoat straight, and pushed his slipping horns back up. “I didn’t mean to knock you over like that.”

“I’m just glad you’re gone,” said Milton. “I mean, from the flat.”

“About that …” Pause. Matthew was staring at the ground, and a thought occurred to Milton. Surely he wasn’t about to tell him that he and Humphrey were …? “Is there a … jewel … in _his_ bedroom?”

Milton paused. “Why are you so interested to know?”

“It’s because I … I …” Pause. Matthew was struggling to remain composed, and when he made eye contact with Milton, the latter knew what he was going to say next. “Humphrey’s my boyfriend now.”

Milton still staggered back, unable to do anything for a moment. “You … you _what_?”

“Milton, don’t take it like that, please –”

“I’m _not_ , I … for … Humphrey …” He stormed past Matthew and took off, flying past Jack, Tim and Mark, no longer in the mood to see anyone else but Humphrey – and sort out a few things with him.

“Milton,” he heard Jack yell as he too followed him into the air. “Milton – wait –”

“Go away, Jack,” he said. “I’ve got problems with my master.”

He didn’t even look back when Jack slowed, stopping altogether. He remained hovering in the air, watching as Milton disappeared. Behind him, Tim and Mark had slowed, and he felt the monkey climb onto his shoulder, brushing his back with his tail. He turned to look at him, caught sight of Tim giving him a distrusting stare, and stuck his arm out for Mark to go back to Tim.

“Thanks Mark,” said Jack. Seeing as Tim’s look hadn’t changed, he added, “I really need to go now, so, erm, I’ll see you later.”

Mark raised an arm and waved; after a pause, Tim said farewell. They remained on the spot, watching Jack fly away; below them, a goat ran out of the forest, also returning home. Overhead, the sun was starting to set, and it was then that Tim and Mark headed back, also going the same way as Jack and Milton had done.

***

Humphrey was surprised to be answering the doorbell at half four in the evening, particularly when Milton was standing on the other side. Once again, he hadn’t bothered with taking off his coat, and Humphrey was about to ask what had happened to it when Milton walked past him, though in a manner that alarmed Humphrey.

“Milton?” he said once the door was shut.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” Milton couldn’t care less that he was at risk of revealing his meeting with Matthew, or even expose him as a Goat Valet.

Humphrey kept quiet; he didn’t like how blunt Milton’s words were, or how he crossed his arms. “What … makes you … think I … _have_ something?”

“So you’re _not_ going out with Matthew?”

“Of course I am –” Humphrey caught himself out by his own words, and he started blushing. Silence followed, and Milton stared at him, his eyes getting narrower and narrower, his arms folded even tighter than they had started.

“How … _often_ is he going to be here?”

“I don’t know. No, really, Milton, I don’t. He normally calls me before he comes round.” Pause. “Look, I can go round to his instead if you want –”

Milton turned his back to Humphrey and walked to the window; despite the coldness of his actions, Humphrey could tell that Milton wasn’t as against him and Matthew as he had first feared he would be. He probably would have done the same if Milton had brought _his_ other half round.

Milton leaned on the windowsill, his palms clenching the ledge. He didn’t want to look at Humphrey, not when he was trying to think what to say, and how to say it without breaking his contract – all of which was thrown out of his mind when he looked out of the window, and saw black smoke rising from where he was certain was Thom’s place. He opened the windows and jumped out; Humphrey ran over, demanding to know what was happening.

“– Tuck might be in danger –” said Milton.

“Thom? I’m coming –”

“No – too dangerous –” Humphrey couldn’t catch Milton’s next words, and was left watching his Valet fly towards the fire, and hoping that Thom was alright, that Milton had made a mistake and seen the wrong house…

“Milton.” He turned to find Jack heading towards him, also looking wild and alert. Behind him, he could hear Tim’s wings beating closer and closer, flapping in time to the growing shadow that was on Jack’s trail. He didn’t want to stop for any of them, and he continued flying to Thom’s.

Jack wasn’t giving up, and he started chasing after Milton; Mark spotted the fire first, and when he started screeching into Tim’s ear, the dragon also changed direction, albeit unwillingly, and continued to tail Jack.

“Go away, Jack,” said Milton.

“Where are you going?” said Jack.

“Tuck –” He didn’t bother finishing, as he was now above Thom’s household and clouded in thick smoke. His heart dropped as he saw the garden was on fire – and with no sign of Thom anywhere, it looked like he would have to dive in…


	3. Chapter 3

As Milton dived, a part of him regretted making that move; half way down, his vision was surrounded by smoke, stinging his eyes and forcing them to water and shut. He had hardly landed when he started coughing and stumbling, disoriented; he raised one hand over his nose and mouth, and the other also over his face, but with his palm turned the other way. A breeze shot past, clearing the smoke and any nearby flames aside.

He opened his eyes, and in that calm second before he began to cough and choke, he could see an outline on the ground, and it scared him. He didn’t want to believe what he was seeing – but as he staggered forward, aided by a gust to keep the flames away, he knew he wasn’t having a hallucination – he recognised that coat, that figure, even the outline of his hairstyle, and when he knelt down and touched unconscious/possibly dead Thom on the shoulder, his heart jumped.

For some reason, it was hurting him to see a leader so weak and hapless.

“Milton.” He felt a strong wind blow over the back of his head, and when he looked up, he saw Tim – without Mark on his shoulder – landing next to him and grabbing Thom’s body. He kept flapping his wings, much in the same way how Milton kept his palms open and glowing.

“Jack’s searching the house, Mark’s calling for help,” he said. “Come on, before we’re seen.”

They flew into the air together, and as they climbed in altitude, Milton gasped as his intake of fresh air resumed. Below them, the fire continued to rage, and the screen of smoke that rose behind them was the perfect cover to duck and land somewhere safe, before anybody saw them.

They chose to escape several streets down, far enough for them to be hidden, but not too far so as to still be able to see what was happening. Tim lowered Thom onto the ground with a gentleness that Milton hadn’t seen him show before; then, without looking at Milton, he craned his neck for any sign of Jack or Mark, leaving the other Valet to grab Thom’s wrist and check for a pulse.

Milton relaxed as he felt a pulse under his fingers, albeit a weak one. He gripped him tighter; Thom couldn’t die now, it wasn’t an option. Two-coming-up-to-three years was too short a term for any Clan leader, and as much as Milton despised Thom’s behaviour, he would rather be inappropriately cuddled and kissed too many times than take regular visits to a grave.

He looked up at Tim; despite his refusal to look down, Milton knew that he was concerned. He wanted to talk to him, but from the ways his wings were spread out like a shield, he decided to keep quiet, and continue to check Thom’s pulse. As long as he could still feel the throbbing … what was worrying him still was how _gentle_ it was …

Jack found them first; his hair had collapsed, and his clothes appeared to be a shade darker than they had been moments ago, but he came back looking relieved, even though he was clutching Mark’s waistcoat.

“What’s happened to Mark?” said Tim.

“Nothing, he’s waiting for the fire truck,” said Jack. “He’s going to distract them if we’re not back by then.”

“What about Thom’s master?” said Milton.

“He’s not in. I checked everywhere. How is he?”

“Still alive … I hope.” Milton shifted his glance back to Thom, noticing how his chest was moving; constricted and at an irregular beat that seemed to match his pulse. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t like the idea at all…

Jack could hardly miss Milton’s look. “You’re not thinking of giving him…?”

“I don’t _want_ to, but …”

Tim spun round, and stared at Milton. “Want? You don’t _have_ a choice – Thom’s struggling, give it to him.” Milton raised his eyebrows. “What, did you think I was going to do it? You’re the only one who has enough _air_ to give Thom.”

“Stop talking to him like that,” said Jack.

“Stay _out_ of this, Jack. You have no use here –”

“No. I’m worried as well.” He tried to take a step forward, but was blocked by one of Tim’s wings.

“Don’t make me force you back.”

Jack’s palms were glowing purple, but his hands shook. He didn’t want to attack, but he was reaching the point where he couldn’t stand Tim any more (though not enough to merit lethal poisoning – probably more food poisoning) – and vice versa, as Tim’s fists were glowing as well.

“Stop it – both of you,” said Milton, his head kept down on Thom. He didn’t want to hear any retorts from Jack, and before he could allow him the chance to say something, he kissed Thom.

He kept his eyes shut, trying to believe that the person he was kissing was anyone _but_ Thom; even though he was doing mouth-to-mouth, he still cringed at the thought that their lips were touching, and, even worse, that it had been _him_ who had made the first move. Never again was he doing this, and it was his desire to see Thom revived that forced him to keep contact for longer, until he could feel the other Valet moving beneath him; _then_ he would have to pull away with speed, before he could let Thom grab him –

What he didn’t realise was that Thom’s fingers were twitching, or that he was conscious that Milton was on top of him. He paused, waited for several more seconds, and then locked his arms around Milton; the latter’s eyes snapped open, but struggled to shut his mouth in time. He winced as Thom, using the headlock, pushed him further into his face, his fingers sprawled and clenching the back of his neck. He didn’t know what to do – the easiest solution was to push him away, but he didn’t want to risk hurting Thom either –

His problems were answered when Thom stopped first. Milton didn’t want to open his eyes – he didn’t think he could face the other leader for some time – and when he felt Thom’s arms slip off, he leapt back and instead of landing on his feet, he flew upwards, rising until he could hardly see anyone. By then, the fire truck had arrived, though from his height, it appeared as little more than two flashing lights.

Milton wasn’t expecting Jack to follow him; he was probably too busy caring for Thom right now. He didn’t care; he wanted to see someone else – anyone would do, as long as he could get away from Thom, Jack, Tim, Mark, and any other Valets –

If he had seen Thom’s face, however, maybe he wouldn’t have gone away at all.

***

Humphrey wasn’t certain if he should stop Milton from potentially wrecking the apartment; since he had come back last night, he had been the angriest Humphrey had ever seen him in, and given how Milton had nearly thrown a bowl at him when he asked him a question, he kept quiet and waited for him to calm down.

Humphrey had been forced to stop Matthew from coming over again. He didn’t want to leave Milton alone; he wasn’t sure if he was on contract or not (he had never mentioned anything about violent mood swings), and he wasn’t about to risk it if it turned out that Milton was off contract, and therefore not liable for any damage he would be dealing. He was certain that as long as he was there, Milton wouldn’t dare do anything outrageous.

When Humphrey glanced at the clock again, it was nearing midday. If his breakfast (Humphrey doubted he could call it that) was anything to go by, he didn’t want to risk eating whatever Milton was going to make for lunch, but if he opted to buy it instead, he would have to leave the flat. It wasn’t a decision he fancied facing, and he was saved from making it when the doorbell rang.

Silence fell across the flat; Humphrey was nearest to the door, and he went to answer it. Behind him, Milton emerged from his room, his arms folded.

“Hi Thom,” said Humphrey. Pause. Milton couldn’t see past him, but his chest swelled, and he turned to go back into his room. “Are you alright? You look –”

“Is Milton in?” There was something different about Thom’s voice that caught Milton’s attention, and he stopped. He sounded tired, and from the way his words seemed strained, he was somewhat upset.

“…Yeah, he is.” Humphrey stood back and let Thom in. Milton took a step back, his arms open in alarm, as Thom ran at him and caught him, hugging him around his neck. He buried his head into his chest, and started to cry; Milton remained on the spot, his body rigid, uncertain what to do. Humphrey looked perplexed at him; Milton shook his head, sidestepped into his room, and shut the door behind him.

He remained standing with his back pushing the door, though one arm was now clutching Thom’s waist, while the other still felt paralysed. Tears were dampening his chest, and although Thom tried to speak, his words made no sense. Milton tried to comfort him, but even a rub on the shoulder could go down the wrong way with Thom; he wasn’t prepared to be mocked in the usual manner.

Outside, the front door was being shut and locked, and then opened again after a considerable pause. After then, he had no clue how long he had been standing, but when his legs started to tire, he knew he had to get Thom off him first. He drew his arm off the shorter man, then placed both hands on his shoulders and nudged him; Thom let go and staggered backwards, rubbing his eyes dry with the back of his hand. He didn’t look up as he sat on the desk.

Milton also walked over to the table, but he sat down on the chair instead. He tried to ignore the wet patches on his shirt, and said, “Thom?”

“Sorry,” said Thom after a pause. He was still sobbing, and they broke the gaps in between each word. “I shouldn’t have … kissed you.”

“What happened last night?” The more Milton thought about it, something had been wrong. Thom would never have been that careless as to set fire to his master’s garden; even if he _did_ start the fire, he could have quashed it in no time. Not to mention that it didn’t make sense how he could have choked on his own flames. Something must have happened beforehand...

Thom shuddered, and bit his lip. His outline shook, trying to restrain from crying again, but a tear dropped from his chin onto his lap. Milton wondered if he would ever get an answer; he hadn’t been expecting Thom to be able to say anything straight away, and nor did he want to see him distressed. He opened his mouth, but Thom got there first.

“Aquarius.”

Milton gripped the edge of his chair until his hands had turned the same shade of white as his face. He leaned forward, and for the next few minutes, the silence was filled with Thom crying, and Milton’s breathing growing louder and constant.

“He came looking for me. He … he tried to see them …”

“See what?” said Milton. No response. “Thom … Thom … _what was he trying to see_?”

“I couldn’t let him … the fire was _my fault_ … I attacked him, I didn’t know what I was doing. He _forced me_ … he … he …” Thom cupped his hands over his ears, hunched over tighter and kicked the desk with his heel. Milton stood up and hugged Thom in a smooth, relaxed motion, though his mind was far from it.

“Thom … Thom, listen … you’re safe, it’s alright.” He tried to get closer, but the top of Thom’s head was already goring his chest, and his arms were starting to strain from only just being able to hug his shoulders. “Thom …”

He was pushed backwards when Thom hugged him again, though this time targeting his waist. Milton stuck his arm out and stopped himself from being run into the wall, and although Thom couldn’t say anything else, he knew he was grateful.

***

“Is Thom alright?” said Humphrey an hour later. Milton had, at last, emerged from his room, although he held onto the doorknob and closed his door with hardly any sound.

“He’ll be fine,” said Milton as he walked to the living room. He appeared to be swaying, and nor did he seem to be focused. “He’s sleeping at the moment, but he’ll be gone soon. I won’t be surprised if he leaves his calling card behind.”

“Are _you_ alright?” Milton didn’t answer, but sat down next to Humphrey. “What’s happened, Milton? Why was Thom –?”

“You’re not doing anything important, are you?”

“…No. How does that –?”

“Good, because I have some explaining to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Prior to that moment, Milton had been too angry to tell Humphrey what had happened in the fire, and as he recited events, he kept an eye on his master. Humphrey started and was clearly in shock, but at the same time, Milton thought he could see something else cross his face, particularly when he mentioned Thom’s fear.

“Who’s Aquarius?” said Humphrey when Milton had finished.

“ _Valet_ Aquarius, you mean. He’s ... we have a counterpart … our arch enemies. We call them the Western Valets, and they follow the star signs Aries, Taurus, Gemini, and so on. Thom was particularly scared of Aquarius because he is the exact opposite of him; in other words, Aquarius is strongest against all Dog Valets, in the same way how Leo is strongest against Dragon Valets. We have a long history with them, and they’re jealous of us.”

“Why?”

“It’s not easy to keep their bloodline going. If, say they wanted to have the next Valet Aquarius, they would have to make sure the female is pregnant at the right time, and gives birth in the right month. With us, we have more or less a whole year to keep our blood going.”

“So, what’s the difference between you and the Western Valets?”

“For a start, there’s only twelve of them, but at least 150 of us, if not more. They don’t have Items; instead, each person has a brooch in the shape of their sign. They can’t change into animals, and they don’t have our powers either, _but_ they are all heavily trained fighters, and apparently they possess psychic powers.”

“Apparently?”

“The last time the Western Valets emerged was 120 years ago. By the time our generation were old enough to understand, most of our predecessors had chosen to forget what had happened. The ones that remembered refused to say anything too in-depth about their encounters, no matter how hard we tried to get it out of them. It’s not all bad news; if the Western Valets _are_ coming back, and Thom’s ambush wasn’t an off-chance, then I think it’s safe to assume that they _do_ have some psychic abilities.”

“What makes you certain about that?”

“The way Thom reacted when he told me what Valet Aquarius tried to do. He was holding his head, like he was trying to defend it.”

Humphrey waited for Milton to continue, but when he saw the other man stare at him, he said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What happened between you and Thom? Why did he terminate his contract?”

Silence. “How is this related?”

“It matters, because I think Valet Aquarius was trying to see his memories. I’ve never seen Thom like this, and the only way he could end up being so helpless is if something happened that he wants to forget.”

Humphrey glanced down at his hands, and his fingers fidgeted as he spoke. “A lot of things could have happened with Thom. I only had him for three months.”

“I still need to know.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so determined to find out.”

“You need to understand, I’m in a difficult and unique situation. It’s rare for one person to have had two Valets serve them –”

“Technically, it’s three, isn’t it? I know Thom’s contract forced me to give up David, but I would have thought he counted.”

“He never served you, so it still remains two, but in terms of our identity, you know three of us. As I was saying, occasions like these have happened too rarely for our contracts to outline what we’re supposed to do in these situations, which means that when it does happen, the Valet has a choice.”

“You want to find out what happened.”

“Yes.”

Humphrey looked up, a mix of anger and hurt on his face. “I’m not telling. If Thom doesn’t want you to know, then I’m not going say either. Anyway, I still can’t see the relevance between this and that Aquarius person.”

“Humphrey –”

“Stop asking questions about me and Thom, and that’s an order.”

Silence. Milton stood up and walked to the window. He stared outside for a while, his fingers drumming on the windowsill; he then opened the window, and stepped onto the sill.

“Milton –”

“You don’t need to look after Tuck; he’ll leave on his own. I’m going for fresh air.”

“Milton, I’m sorry. You know I don’t –” Humphrey gave up, however, when he found himself facing nothing more than an empty window, and Milton’s disappearing silhouette.

***

“Milton.”

Milton stopped and turned around; he didn’t say anything back to Jack, but held out his hand and waited for him to catch up. Jack’s palm had barely touched his own when he cupped it tighter than usual, although he loosened again when he saw the younger man wince.

“Sorry,” said Milton.

“It’s alright. I’ve got time to talk, if you want.”

“How long have you got?”

“About an hour, then I really have to go back. I wanted to see you anyway.” Jack looked down. “I think we’re safe here, no one should be able to see us.”

“Yes, but I think we should go somewhere else anyway; I don’t want to be attacked by a startled flock of geese, and it will be messier if some pilots spot us too late.”

“Alright.” The two dragons began to fly forward again, still holding hands. “Has, erm, have you had –”

“Yes, Tuck’s been round. I’ll tell you what happened when we find somewhere.”

Neither of them realised it, but they were soon diving into the forest, choosing the same tree to sit under, and using the same roots as their narrow, makeshift seats. There was something pleasant and secure about the place; maybe it was because Milton didn’t want anyone else seeing him so close to Jack.

When they were settled, Milton told Jack what had happened several hours ago; by the end, the younger man was looking just as worried.

“Do you think they will make a comeback?” said Jack. He had placed his other hand on top of Milton’s, his fingertips pressing into the back of Milton’s palm, leaving white streaks behind.

“Yes,” said Milton after a pause. “They usually never come out on their own like this.”

Jack shuffled closer to him, and rested his head on his shoulder. Milton let go of his hand and placed both arms around him instead; he wanted to keep Jack close to him, he wasn’t as capable of fighting off any of the Valets, let alone Leo. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Jack was hurt in any way; as if to show his affections, he kissed Jack on his forehead, one hand caressing his cheek.

“I’ll be alright,” said Jack. “I’m not worried about them.”

“ _I_ am. You know you’re not skilled enough to take on one of them alone. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Jack lifted his head and stared into Milton’s eyes. “Since when did you start becoming so protective?”

“…What do you mean?”

“You have _never_ said anything like that before.”

“Do I _have_ to put everything in words?” said Milton as he gripped Jack’s shoulder firmer.

“That _would_ be nice…”

“Oh, I get it. This is an excuse to hear me say ‘I love you’, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

Milton pulled Jack closer to him; although he might be awful when it came to admitting his feelings, he knew Jack understood, and vice versa. He preferred it when he didn’t have to say anything, when all he could do was keep his other half close under his wing, feel his heart beat in time to his; those were the emotions he couldn’t put into words, but they were also the strongest, the dearest ones he could ever experience.

Sometimes, just a silence would suffice.

***

“I told you he would go,” said Milton as he showed Humphrey the paw print calling card. He was back in the flat, and when he had returned through the window (as he normally did), his first instinct was to check his bedroom; as he expected, it was empty, and apart from the card and poorly shut windows, bore no traces of Thom.

“How does he do that?” said Humphrey as he stared at the print. “I haven’t left all day, but I didn’t see or hear him go through the –”

“We have our ways, particularly with windows.”

“You’re not telling me he opened yours and –”

“Well, it _is_ the most subtle way to leave. We can’t go around making a noise, how else do you think we’ve managed to survive for so long?”

Humphrey halted, trying to think of something to say. “How am I supposed to know? Anyway, Milton, I think you’re back on contract, aren’t you?”

“I was never off contract, _sir_.”

“What?”

“You could have stopped me from leaving for an hour, and you didn’t, which counts as permission for me to take leave for a little while.” Before he could let Humphrey say or do anything else, Milton dashed into his room, and waited for his master to calm down first, before he would resume normal service.


End file.
